The war is over, so it's said
All the men are home or dead
Don't you know I want to cry
That some of us refused to die.
I've watched friends die, one by one
Despair killed them, not a gun;
They died abandoned, forgotten and alone,
Because no on cared to bring them home.
I, too, may go this way,
Or find "freedom" on execution day;
But you my friend will not be free
Knowing that you have deserted me.
- Anonymous Patient, San Diego Veteran's Hospital, 1970.